When we flew to visit family over the holidays, my husband brought his laptop and some DVDs for the kids. One of them was my son's favorite Thomas the Tank Engine.
A few days after my husband deployed, my son asked for his Thomas DVD and I couldn't find it anywhere. I have a feeling he may have taken it on his deployment with him by mistake. It was in a leather case with a bunch of other DVDs.
So I told my son, "When Daddy calls, we'll ask him if he knows where it is."
As soon as he got on the phone with his daddy, he asked, "Where's my DVD?"
Of course, my husband has no clue where it is, and I still haven't found it here at home. And now, every single time my husband calls, the first thing out of my son's mouth is, "Where's my DVD?" Every. Single. Time.
My poor husband. A few weeks ago he said, "Would you get that kid a replacement DVD, please? He's killing me!"
But even though I took him to the store and let him pick out any Thomas DVD he wanted, last night, he still said to my husband, "Daddy. I want my DVD! You have to come home and bring it to me."
And it finally dawned on me. He doesn't really care about the DVD. He just wants his Daddy to come home. And in his wonderful three-year-old logic, if he has his DVD, he'll have to come home to bring it to him.
Isn't that sweet? If only the world worked that way.
Now, let's see. What does my husband have over there with him that I can't do without? Oh, I know.
"Honey! I want your dick! You have to come home and bring it to me."
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